The Coiled Spring

By the time Wanda had registered what was happening, she was alone in the dark. She had watched Kirsten step back and fire - that action had happened quickly.

But then, she lost track of proceedings as the frantic scuffling took place. First Malmir: the elf surged forward, bow raised. It looked like he shot through the door, but Wanda didn't see the arrow.

Then: Johann. Shouting - his adrenaline made vocal. Silence shattered as his desperate battle cry reverberated down the corridor.

Werner lunged forth. Darkness fell suddenly, as he lobbed the glowing torch into the room, before following it himself, nearly bowling little Harbull over in his charge.

Wanda noticed Harbull's silhouette up at the door. Cries from within assaulted her senses as she staggered forwards in the darkness. Was the torch on the floor? The room seemed to be lit - just go to the light, Wanda. Don't be left out here.

She bumped into Harbull. Reaching down, she clutched his shoulder. It was a maternal grip - that of a mother restraining her child. With her other hand, she set down the troublesome lantern and drew her dagger. Point up or down, she wondered?

Down.

She turned the blade in her hand, enabling strong, downward stabbing. If it came to it, she felt that it would be easier to kill... repulse an attacker that way.

Kill. That thought chilled her to her very core.

Tonight, in that little room, someone would die.